The Hollow Men
by jeslyn-nighthawk
Summary: Basically an "if-world" scenario. Rand did not leave with Moiraine, though Egwene did. Very dark. The rating may go up in future chapters. Please r&r. Thanks.
1. Chapter 1

The Hollow Men

**By Jeslyn Nighthawk**

Disclaimer: I own neither _The Wheel of Time_ nor "The Hollow Men." These works are the creative property of Robert Jordan and T.S. Elliot, respectively. 

A/N: This is not a happy fic. It will be very dark and will deal with aspects of madness and death. It will _not _have a happy ending. If you are looking for a light fic, please look elsewhere. 

Chapter 1

 _Shape without form, shade without colour,_

_Paralysed force, gesture without motion;_

_… Eyes I dare not meet in dreams_

*** My breath burns in my chest. Cramps are beginning in my exhausted legs. Still I run. I hear them behind me. Their grunts and gasping breathes. I look over my shoulder, but in the swirling fog, I cannot make out their forms. Ravens screech overhead. My tired muscles are going to give out any minute- I know it. I duck into a hollow in a tree. My pursuers are not smart enough to look for me, I know, but they might still smell me. Burn them! What have I done to deserve this? 

            _I feel a new presence. It is more sinister than my pursuers. It does not hunt me; it simply searches. Like giant eyes on the back of my neck. I cower in my small hiding place- a shelter that no longer seems so clever. I squeeze my eyes shut as if my inability to see will prevent my being seen. I hold my breath. It will pass. It will pass. _I think this over and over like a mantra. It draws nearer. _It will find me. _Closer. If I am found I know it will no longer mean just my life. It will mean my soul. That burning gaze lights upon me. ***__

            I am sitting bolt upright in my bed at the inn. A sheen of cold sweat covers my bear chest, and my breath comes in ragged gasps. Every muscle in my body is taught, as if ready for a fight. 

            That same dream has haunted me every night since _that_ night. The night the trollocs came. The night my home was burned to the ground. The night the Aes Sedai witch, Moiraine, took Egwene away to the White Tower. The night the peddler, Paiden Fain, was revealed as a dark friend. 

            The night Tam al'Thor- no _my father- he _was_ my father and nothing any witch says will make it other wise-was killed upon the spear of a trolloc. The night my world changed forever. _

            That night I made a deal with a witch. I would go with her, as she believed was necessary- _but only if she saved my injured father. She did not hold up her end of the bargain. Tam al'Thor died that night. In my rage I risked everything to defy the power of an Aes Sedai. _

            In my rage I made a discovery that I can never allow any one else to find. Moiraine already knows- I do not fear the day she sends the Reds for me. By that time, I am sure I will welcome the certain death that they will bring. I can only hope that they will find me before my ability to hold the madness at bay fails. 

            That night I came to two irrevocable conclusions. I _am_ Rand al'Thor, son of Tam al'Thor. And I wield _saidin_, the male half of the One Power. 

A/N: Short, I know, but it was really only an introduction. This is basically going to be an "if-world" scenario. If I make any really grievous errors in grammar, spelling or theory please don't hesitate to tell me. I will fix mistakes as soon as possible. Also, I need to know if I pull off the 1st person POV. If I don't I can still change back to 3rd person relatively easily. Please review. Flames are welcome. 

-Jes


	2. Chapter 2

The Hollow Men By Jeslyn Nighthawk 

Disclaimer: I don't own any one. I'm broke. I can't even afford new clothes for summer. Oh well. Guess I'll have to stick to fan fics. 

Chapter 2

_Our dried voices, when_

_We whisper together _

_Are quiet and meaningless_

_As wind in dry grass_

_Or rats' feet over broken glass_

_In our dry cellar_

An unnatural quiet seems to have descended upon Emond's Field since that night. All of the villagers speak in hushed voices, as if by not raising their voices they might never again call the Dark One's attention. As if anything they did had called it in the first place. 

Around me especially they seem to fall quiet. Maybe, subconsciously, they sense that it was me that he was searching for that night. Maybe it was. I don't credit much of what that witch said though. Even if I can channel, what would the Dark One want with a sheepherder? 

The effects of the dream are beginning to wear off. I feel the tension slowly leeching from my shoulders. Outside my window, the gray of predawn is giving way to the light of dawn. It is time to get up. 

I shake myself out of my reverie and in affect the last lingering tension from my nightmare is gotten rid of as well. I pull on a shirt and my boots, walk over to the nightstand, splash some water on my face and head downstairs. As I enter the kitchen, Mistress al'Vere offers me a warm meat pie. I take it with a quiet thanks, and move to sit at the small table in the corner. 

"Rand?" Her voice is quiet, but more in respect for the early hour than in the wariness so many others show. "Would you mind chopping some wood for the fires? There is still a chill at night, and we're nearly out." 

"Of course, Mistress al'Vere." It was after all, the least I could do after she and her husband had opened their home to me. "I'll start as soon as I'm done eating."

"Thank you. What with Egwene gone, and all of the repairs to be done in town… things like that just sneak up on you. We really do appreciate all of the help you've bee. I know the others might not show it, but you know they're just still so scared. They'll come around, you'll see." With that she just turned around and returned to her morning routine. Trust Mistress al'Vere to know what I was feeling, and to try to mother it away. It would have worked to, if the villagers' animosity were all I had to contend with. But I also knew I could channel, and that was a constant weight upon me. 

I don't think I'll stay here much longer. Maybe I'll move back out to the woods and rebuild the cottage. The longer I stay here the greater danger I represent to those around me. I will not allow them to be hurt because of what I am. 

I quickly finish and move out into the back yard where the firewood is kept. 

*************************************************************************

My shoulders burn, and my arms, back and chest are once again slick with the sweat of exertion. Once again I am shirtless in the light of the morning sun. The repetition of the movements of my arms as they swing the axe with all the force I can muster wipes, for a time, the burdensome thoughts that I have carried for what seems like forever from my mind. All there is is the motion of the axe and the resounding crack of wood splitting in the open clearing. 

Distantly I am aware of someone calling my name, but I put off the sound as I swing one last time and the piece in front of me splits apart. Some one calls my name, and as I stand there panting, some small part of my brain acknowledges that it is Perrin. I turn to greet him and see Mat with him. I raise my hand in greeting. 

Somewhere in the woods, a raven crows. 

Review Responses:

**Dancing Fire, seishi, Psycho Goddess, Demensha, She Who Walks the Night: **Thanks, I am glad you liked it. 

**Ilona: **I know it was short. Was this at least a little better? Also, unless people stop reading I fully intend to finish everything I post. I now how aggravating it can be to star reading a fic and then wait forever just to realize the author has quit writing. I have made a vow to at least _try_ to never be one of those authors. 

_To everyone who was curious as to where this fic is going_: I honestly cannot tell you. I have some very vague ideas, but it is mostly writing itself. 

A/N: As I said before, I don't really know where this fic is going. I do know that it will not be pretty. Already, my beta reader, Besa-sama, has said she will not read it. Doesn't like the dark stuff. So please forgive and inform me of any horrible mistakes. I will fix them as soon as I am made aware of them. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'll try to update son, but with AP exams, graduation, and my trip to Hawaii, it may not happen. I promise to update as soon as I get back, though, regardless of whether or not I manage before. 

Ja ne


	3. Chapter 3

The Hollow Men

**By Jeslyn Nighthawk**

A/N: YAY! I graduated! No more school till August, which means lots of time to write. And, since this fic has received the most reviews, it will receive the most attention. Enjoy J! 

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Wheel of Time_. This wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I did- I mean, who wants to torture their _own _characters anyway.

Chapter 3

_There, the eyes are_

_Sunlight on a broken column_

_There, is a tree swinging_

_And voices are_

_In the wind's singing_

_More distant and more solemn_

_Than a fading star._

            All of us jump, startled. I see fear that mirrored my own in the eyes of my two best friends. After all, a raven that did not act like a raven was the herald of that night. 

            We stand, tense, for nearly a minute. The silence of the clearing stretches around us. The sweat between my shoulders cools in the light breeze sending a nervous chill up my back. 

            The raven crows again closer this time and if possible we become even tenser. We wait, prepared for anything. Suddenly there is a rush of feathers all around us. I hear the others yell and recognize my own voice as I try desperately to avoid the beating wings. 

            As suddenly as it had begun it is over, and we all look at each other sheepishly as we see the fox trot off into the wood. Apparently, it had missed its meal of marsh bird, and managed to scare the flock into flight. 

            Next thing I know, we are all laughing in embarrassment. The tension eases, if not entirely, then at least it is not as noticeable. Mat is the first to speak. 

            "Hey…um… we're going hunting. Want to come?" Leave it to Mat to act as if nothing has happened. He still is slightly wary around me, but given Mat's suspicious nature… the fact that he still associates with me is a sign of how strong our friendship is. Mat always was one to look out for his own hide. At least that's what he wants us to think. 

            Perrin speaks up. "There have been sightings of wolves in the woods. Figure we might at least run them off, if not bag one or two. Worst case we come home with something to eat. Maybe we could camp? Get away from town for a few days."

            I think about this for a few minutes before answering. Master al'Vere could probably care less if I leave, and Mistress al'Vere will likely be thankful for anything I bring home. It was a hard winter. "I need to check with Mistress al'Vere…but I'm sure she won't mind. I can be ready in an hour or so. I'll meet you back here then?" I need to get away from the stares as much as they do. I know that is the real reason for this excursion. 

             They both nod and head home to gather their things. I don't think either have any idea how lucky they are to have homes to go home to. 

            With a sigh, I turn and head back into the inn.

***

            We found no sign of the wolves. 

This is not surprising considering how close we still are to town. We stopped when we found a clearing suitable for camping, and spent the rest of daylight hunting dinner. That hare is beginning to look very small to split between three. Good thing I packed some bread and cheese that Mistress al'Vere gave me. We won't starve tonight. 

Tomorrow might be another story. 

None of us say anything as we prepare for the night. It is almost as if we are mimicking the eerie silence that seems to pervade the woods around us. The nearly full moon offers plenty of light, but for some reason it provides no comfort. 

Perrin stiffens suddenly and looks to the west. The firelight reflects in his eyes momentarily giving him an inhuman look. A howl resounds through the night echoing, resonating. It is one long pure note that cuts off as suddenly as it began, but leaves a feeling of uneasiness in its wake. We are in their territory now. 

Mat looks at Perrin, uneasy speculation in his eyes. Perrin does not look at him; his eyes are still staring in the direction of the wolf. Mat finally breaks the silence, but when he has voiced his question we all wish he hadn't. "How did you know the wolf was there?"

Perrin jumps and glares at Mat. His reply is defensive-"I didn't." He turns away and stalks to his bedroll. Mat shrugs, but the suspicion is still in his eyes. As I said before, Mat is not a trusting person. 

"Mat," I say quietly. He turns his head towards me in acknowledgement, but he is not really listening. "Go to sleep." To reinforce this, I take my own advice and climb into my bedroll. I hear Mat behind me doing the same. 

Let Perrin keep his secret. 

***

A/N: Okay, that's it for chapter 3. I tried _really_ hard to make it longer. Please bear with me as I try to work out where this is going. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I hope I can continue to live up to your expectations. If anyone cares, I also have a WOT, Lord of the Rings, Inu-Yasha crossover posted in the Inu-Yasha section. Um… sorry it took so long to update. I had graduation, Hawaii, and a serious case of writers block. Thank you for reading and please review. 

Ja ne. 


	4. Chapter 4

The Hollow Men 

**By **

**Jeslyn Nighthawk**

A/N: Um…So I know where I want this story to go, and a few of the intermediate points, but a lot of the stuff in the middle is still fuzzy. 

Review Responses:

Ilona: Thank you for reviewing again. I use a method very similar to method acting- my beta-reader calls it method writing. It basically calls for me to become the character I'm writing. For this reason, it can be emotionally draining, and this is the main reason I don't update this fic as often as my others. Actually, the first time I tried this technique it was writing a Gundam Wing poem from Heero's perspective. What came out was so dark I freaked my mom out. 

White-wolf: Thanks and I'll try. 

Disclaimer: Don't own it…Don't really want it…That would involve way too much responsibility, I think. 

Chapter 4

_The eyes are not here  
There are no eyes here  
In this valley of dying stars  
In this hollow valley  
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms_

            "I'm leaving."

            Perrin and I looked up at Mat, in startled confusion. He was staring into the fire where our leftovers from the night before were heating.

            "I mean when we get back. I have enough saved- I'm going to by a commission into the Andoran army. I can't stay here anymore." Mat's voice was harsh. Both Perrin and I could tell he was dead serious. 

            "Why?" Perrin asked. 

            "I can't stand the stares anymore- the suspicion, the whispers. There is nothing for me to look forward to here anymore. So I'm leaving." Mat was refusing to look either of us in the eye. 

            "Good luck," I think I startled both of them with this statement, as both of their heads swiveled to look at me. "You deserve better than this town's petty suspicions, Mat. I hope you'll be happy."

            Mat nodded, Perrin shrugged, and we all began to pack up camp. They day was here, and the hunt was on.

***

            We found the tracks around noon. They were faint, but still fresh enough for us to follow. We followed them the entire day as they headed relentlessly west, only sometimes turning to the south for brief stints.

            We followed on into the next day, stopping only long enough to cook and devour the large hare we had managed to snare. We followed until we reached the base of the Mountains of Mist.

            For long moments, we stood there staring up. Once, years ago, we ventured in, but we did not go nearly as far as this hunt was likely to take us. Silently, we began to set up camp as if unanimous in the decision that we would continue forward come morning. 

            Camp that night was silent, none of us talked. Our stomachs filled with yet another hare, we each went to our bedroll, and slept. 

***

            _Overhead, the stars shone brightly. As if I were a pivotal point in their universe, they began to madly swirl around me. The rhythms were nauseating, yet I was entranced and could not look away. Sitting up, I felt the stars recede, and despite the loss of their wild beauty, I was relieved._

_            The eyes…they were distant, but coming closer. Panicking I lunged from my bedroll, and began running. I was running for all I was worth. The feeling of the breath burning in my lungs and the fire in my fatigued muscles was familiar…after all, I had felt it in every other one of these dreams. Running, running, I had to find shelter. _

_            Suddenly the mists engulfed me. Before me the mountains' untamed faces rose as if from the abyss. I felt dizzy, and the world spun around me crazily. _

_            Just as I felt as if I would faint, it stopped. I was in a perfect empty clearing. Above me once again were the madly dancing stars. Ahead of me…ruins. The gates of what was once a great city…Most importantly, I no longer felt the eyes pursuing me. I looked forward and started to walk. The city was calling my name…If only I could make out what it was. _

_***_

            Sunlight on my eyelids woke me. I sat up and breathed the first word that came to my lips: "_Manetheren._"

            Perrin and Mat both looked at me strangely, perhaps they had dreamt something similar-it wouldn't be the first time. 

            I looked at them for a few moments before I spoke again, "That's what awaits us in those mountains. Do we go?"

            Suprisingly, it was Perrin who spoke up. "I'm following those wolves- even to the Blight if I have to."

            Mat nodded his agreement. 

            We packed up and headed out, the hunt was back on. 

TBC

A/N: Thanks to all who read and please review…It's what keeps me writing. If anyone out there is a _Night World _(By L.J. Smith) fan, I encourage you to go read " Strange Choice or Fate That is Strange" by my beta-reader Besa-sama. She is in my favorite authors. It is a great read, very funny, and she is rather desperate for someone other than myself to review. Thanks and ja ne. 


	5. Chapter 5

The Hollow Men

**By **

Jeslyn Nighthawk 

A/N: I am sooooo sorry it took me so long to update. My excuses: writer's block and _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._ It has been all I could think about since about one week before its release. This hopefully marks the official end of my bout of writer's block, though I make no promises. Anyway thanks for your support; I hope I continue to deserve it. 

Review Responses:

Seishi, Ilona: I love you guys. I really hope that I don't disappoint you. Be sure to let me know if I do- I promise to try and fix it if I do. 

Agarwaen: Wow, thanks. 

Kelana: Um… How to answer questions without giving anything away… First, Mat is suspicious because that is his nature and the events of Bell Tine and those following have only caused this trait to become more apparent. The other villagers have not treated them well since that night. Rand knows he can channel because he channeled in a rather dramatic way on that night, though the only witnesses were Lan, Moiraine, and Tam. I will probably get more into it later. As for Perrin being connected to the wolves, If you remember, the bond started budding early in the first book. Later they encounter another man who has gone mad because of a similar bond. This led me to believe that such a bond was inevitable, and inescapable. What is happening at this point is merely the beginnings of that bond, and not a full blown connection- I'm sorry if I didn't make that clear enough. Thank you for the feedback; it helped me find the wholes. 

Smack: Thanks for both reviews. As for why they are going into the Mountains…They are going for several reasons. First they are following the wolves, second they are being driven by the common dream, and third this is likely the last chance they will have to explore this together as Mat will soon be leaving. 

Disclaimer: Neither the books nor the poem belong to me

Chapter 5

Those who have crossed  
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom  
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost  
Violent souls, but only  
As the hollow men  
The stuffed men.

            The news that Mat would soon be leaving should have hit Perrin and I harder than it did, but in the wake of that dream, we had no choice but to let it lie. 

            The dream and the Old Blood singing in our veins, we traveled relentlessly towards the Mountains of Mist. It drove us, and I cannot say we did anything to resist it. It became apparent as we continued that the wolves were also headed into the Mountains. We were gaining on them, but slowly, and there was a good chance we would lose them once we entered the Mountains. 

            Silence reigned. For nearly two days we said nothing; Mat became more withdrawn, and as we neared the wolves, Perrin was growing more and more agitated. Often, at night he would stare into the direction of the Mountains. Just before he would look away, the howling would start. It was a haunting sound in the quiet of the night-it was the only sound. Other than the howling of the wolves, there was nothing, and that worried us, although we said nothing about it. 

            The third day dawned and we found ourselves, while not at the base of the Mountains, well within their Mists. The grayness swirled around us in a formless whirling dance. By noon we were clearly approaching the base of the Mountains; the terrain was becoming steadily more rugged and steep. The Mists too, were becoming thicker until we cold barely see each other despite only being a few feet apart. Stranger still the wolves were howling constantly, and seemed to be on all sides. The distance between them and us varied, but always they were within earshot. It seemed sometimes that they were herding us. 

            Perrin was becoming increasingly agitated the longer the howling continued and Mat- Mat was just plain jumpy. He started at the slightest movement, and his dagger was never far from his hand. I cannot say that I was not nervous- I was terrified. But I was also firm in my belief in my ability to defend myself. My sanity would be in danger, but not my life.

            At sundown, the howling abruptly ceased. In the light of the dying sun, the mist around us began to take form. Soldiers in antique armor formed ranks beside and behind us, all staring as we were into the immense pass that had suddenly appeared before us leading into the depths of the Mountains. On either side of us the great faces of the Mountains loomed. Beyond this pass Manetheren beckoned. Suddenly, the singing in our blood increased ten-fold and we were drawn forward as one. The shadowy warriors simply continued staring until as one they turned and face outward, to all appearances seeming to be guarding our backs and the pass at which they had likely died. I hope that I only imagined the looks of pity on their featureless faces before they turned away. 

            We started up the pass. 

TBC

A/N: Was this really confusing? Bad? I'm really sorry. I have rather horrid writers block and needed to get something out before I was lynched. I hope it wasn't too bad and I promise to do better next time. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated. In fact once again I am going to beg for reviews. Thanks for reading. 

Ja ne.

Jeslyn. 


	6. Chapter 6

The Hollow Men

**By**

**Jeslyn Nighthawk**

A/N: Twice in one week! Are you proud of me or what? Anyway I hope you like this chapter- there might even be some plot. 

Review responses:

Smack: Thank you and I do promise to keep updating until this story is finished. 

Kari Al'thor: Thanks.

James: I think that may have been one of the most flattering reviews I have ever gotten. Thank you. 

Last but not least, Ilona: Your continued putting up with my erratic updating and short chapters astounds me. Thank you so much, and although you no longer _have to_ tell me you are actually waiting for more, it is always nice to hear. 

Chapter 6

This is the dead land 

_This is the cactus land_

_Here the stone images_

_Are raised, here they receive_

_The supplication of a dead man's hand_

_Under the twinkle of a fading star. _

            The pass is entirely barren. There are no plants, no animals that make themselves known. There is no color. Just an endless grayness. When the sun finally set, and dark fell, we set up camp. None of us felt comfortable trying to traverse the pass in the dark. 

            It was Mat, once again, who finally voiced the question we all wanted to ask. "Why are we doing this? We've known all our loves that these Mountains are cursed. Explain why we are going deeper into them than necessary."

            I look at him and know that there is ice in my gaze. "Can't you feel it, Mat? Something up there is calling to us. I intend to find out what it is." 

            "Why?" His eyes now are desperate- he needs to understand what he is risking his life for. What he doesn't seem to understand is that I cannot give him that answer. "Why are we going to risk our lives like this? We could have long lives ahead of us. I might even have a decent chance at a future in the Andoran army."

            "My fate has been decided," I cannot help but let some of the bitterness seep into my voice. "What awaits me up there cannot possibly be worse." Perrin and Mat both look at me now questions visible on their faces. I know that they wonder what passed in the woods on that night. How I managed to survive, even if my father didn't. Perrin will not pursue this- he will not ask of my secrets if I do not ask of his. With Mat though, one can never tell what he will or won't push. Finally, when I avert my gaze and look into the blank distance, he decides to leave it be.

            "You do not have to come," I say, my voice harsh, my face still averted, "Leave if you want." He won't leave; he never does. What he says about the Andoran army is true. Mat has a gift for leadership, one that is unhindered and perhaps even aided by his natural suspicion. But for some reason, he has always looked to me. Now, that tendency to follow me is unsettling. Like I said, my own fate has been decided- theirs have not. I don't want to be responsible for what happens to them.

            Once again we let the silence take hold, and go to sleep. 

***

            With the sun came the howling. Now there was light, so were there wolves. For three days it followed this pattern: the wolves would surround and howl at us during the days, never close enough for us to catch, and come night the howling would suddenly cease. It was almost as if the wolves themselves were afraid of what might lurk in the darkness here in these cursed Mountains. For three days we wondered what could scare the wolves into silence. For three days, Perrin became more and more anxious, jumping even when there was no sound. Perhaps especially when there was no sound. 

            On the sunset of the third day, the howling ceased not with the fall of the sun, but with our entrance into the ruins of what had once been a city beyond mortal imagination. 

            We had finally come upon Manetheren. 

***

            I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I enter the cold gray stone of the dead city. Mat and Perrin are close by my side, and I know they feel it too. After all, the Old Blood sings in our veins. Behind me I hear the scrape of claws on stone and I whirl to find the source. Although I see nothing, I know the wolves are back there. It is only now, when we have reached our destination, that I pause to wonder why. 

            I look at the others and we reach a silent accord. Together we head deeper into the clutches of this once great city, until we reach the very center. 

            High above us, stone arches and spires fly. At the very tops, the gray of the stone merges and blends with the gray of the sky. Ahead of us, in the center of the circular courtyard we now stood in, were two statues made of a milky, pearlescent, white stone. 

            The Man was commanding, with broad shoulders, and a square, stubborn jaw. His expressionless eyes were cold as they gazed out from a neatly bearded face. His long hair was caught in a neat tail. His armor was that of a king, and his sword was pointed outward as if in challenge. 

            The Woman could have been the mother of the Two Rivers. She was short when compared to her consort, but her bearing no less regal or commanding. Her face was not delicate in its beauty, but fierce, the only things marking her as exotic were her slightly tilted eyes. Otherwise, she appeared as if she could have passed as the cousin of Nyneave, or Egwene. Certainly, at times, both had proven themselves capable of that particular bearing. It was the bane of all of the men in town. Her dress had long flowing, bell cut sleeves, and flowed in one smooth line from her shoulders to her feet where it pooled upon the ground. It as belted by a chain of large rings, which matched the necklace she wore on her neck. Her arms were raised high above her head, and her face barely tilted up towards the sky as if she were commanding, summoning…. something. 

            Drawn forward once more by that overwhelming call, I lurched to the base of the statues and fell to my knees at their feet. Distantly, I heard Mat and Perrin do the same. We had come home, the Old Blood had returned to its givers. 

TBC

***

A/N: Okay… that was long. And I apologize for any inconsistencies. I am aware of them, but do not at the moment know how to fix them. I will as soon as I figure it out. This was by far my longest chapter yet, nearly twice the normal length. I hope that it satisfied those of you who keep telling me to make them longer. I would like to point out as I have in earlier author's notes, that this fic has been emotionally draining to write and that is at least a major part of why my chapters are so short. Thank you to all who have read this and please leave a review…they really do make me update faster. 

Ja ne.

Jeslyn.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Hollow Men**

**by******

**Jeslyn Nighthawk**

A/N: Well, I said before Thanksgiving, and by God, I've managed it. This fic is getting harder and harder to write by the day, and I think truthfully that the Harry Potter plot bunny that is chewing on my toes is the cause. Any of you who are interested, it is called "Only a Slytherin" and will deal with my views on what prejudice of all types is doing to the children of Slytherin House. I had to introduce an original character for this, but hopefully not a Mary Sue. Other causes for delays: Did you know that Randolf-Macon Woman's College ranks higher that Stanford in academic challenge. That's what I get for wanting a school with a good academic reputation. So my promise is simple. One more update before Christmas, and hopefully another before I go back in January. That is all I can do. For those of you who have stuck with me through all of this- you have my undying love and gratitude. I hope this chapter satisfies. 

Review Responses:

Lolli: Wow, thanks. I'll try to improve, but I may not be able to change much at this late date. Maybe I got better. I certainly hope that Creative Writing class I'm taking is helping. As for the college and writing thing, see above author's note. My school is ranked as harder than Stanford and only one or two points lower than Harvard and Yale. Then of course I'm taking killer courses. Really, it's my own fault. 

Lady Devimon: Thanks and I never liked her much either. Aviendha was cool though. 

Kelana: Thanks once again, and I will keep writing, even if it doesn't seem like it. 

Smack: Thanks and I'm sorry for the long wait. I won't make any promises about a smaller one either, cause I can't make guarantees. 

Las but not least, Ilona: After being so happy about that last quick update and I do this to you. I apologize profusely. Besides that, this one isn't much longer than previous ones. The author's note is almost as long. I'm sorry and please forgive me. 

Chapter 7

_Those who have crossed  
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom  
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost  
Violent souls, but only  
As the hollow men  
The stuffed men._

            It sings louder now. Vision recedes and I am left in a grey, swirling fog so similar to that which we had to pass through to get here. The cold stone under my finger seems to pulse. _Cuendillar _some distant part of me recognizes, heart stone. It moves pulses with the distant beat of hearts long dead, but never gone. 

            The voices are next, surrounding me pulling at me. Hundreds of thousands cry out in perfect unison from across the Wheel. Leading them are the low silky tones of a woman. They batter at my defenses, stripping me of them in swift efficient blows. 

            _"Tai'shar Manetheren."___

"No," the denial is forced out in a harsh whisper. 

            "_Tai'shar Manetheren."_ More forceful this time. 

            " 'M not," I deny, voice trembling with effort.

            "_Tai'shar Manetheren!"_ No room for denial now. 

            But I must, "NO!" This time the denial is torn from me, and it comes out in a guttural howl. I feel the tears streaming down my face. I am not True Blood; I am not even Tam Al'thor's real son. "I AM NOT!" I finally break down into sobs. 

            The voices are gentler now, but no less insistent, "_Yes, Tai'shar Manetheren. Raised by Old Blood, born of Ancient. True Blood. Will you tear the world asunder? We will protect you so you do not. Tai'shar Manetheren." _

            A pulse, deep and reverberating. It runs over and through me leaving a kind of peace in its wake. Blackness reaches up to claim me, but I notice one last thing: I cannot feel the Source. 

***  
            I awaken slowly. The Source is gone. I can no longer feel it writhing at the edge of my mind, a miasma of filth just waiting for the flood gate to be lifted. It is gone. I almost weep again in relief. For the first time in weeks, I feel clean. 

            I sit up and see that I am the first to have regained consciousness. Perrin is sprawled next to me, eyes open, glazed, unseeing. Mat is on my other side, eyes screwed shut, tears leaking from between the lids. He is clutching desperately at the skirt of Eldrene- how do I know that?- as if begging for mercy. He is murmuring something, but I can't make it out. The knuckles of his clenched hands are white. 

            I decide to approach Perrin first. Slowly, I move towards him and reach out to shake his shoulder. Still shaking from whatever it was that had just happened, I am barely able to move out of the way when he lunges at me. His eyes glow with a strange golden light, and his teeth are bared, a low growl emanating from deep in his throat. My breath catches in my throat. 

            "Perrin!" I croak out. 

            At the sound of my voice, his eyes clear and his bunched, tense muscles go slack. "Oh, Light, Rand!" His voice shudders, "What happened? Where's Mat?"

            I gesture behind me. Perrin winces. "I don't…know," I reply and shake my head. "I don't know." 

            Perrin looked back at Mat with a grimace. "Should we wake him?" 

            "I don't know… look what happened when I tried to wake you."

            "Was I that bad off?" he replied nodding in Mat's direction. 

            "No, just unconscious." 

            "His hands are starting to bleed…" I look behind me to see the truth of his words, "I think we should wake him." I nod. 

            We each move to one side of him, inching closer as silently as we can. Soon we are close enough to make out what he is saying, but not to understand it. "_Shen__ an Calhar!" There is something desperate in his voice, quiet as it is. I nod at Perrin and we both move one hand to shake Mat by the shoulders. If he becomes violent, at least with two of us we can restrain him. He cries out as we touch him, a horrible sound of a creature in its death throws. He curls in on himself, whimpering, muttering. "__Shen__ an Calhar, Shen an Calhar..." _

            "Mat!" I say, desperate to bring him around now. He is my best friend. I brought him here. "Mat!"

            His eyes open, but they take a few moments to clear, the panic and pain only slowly receding. Finally, he pushes both Perrin and I away and walks across the plaza to huddle by a pile of fallen stone. 

            I can hear his sobs. 

TBC

A/N: Thank you all for reading and please review. I'm sorry it was so short, but it was just what seemed to fit best. 

Ja ne and happy Thanksgiving, 

Jes


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